


Object Permanence

by asuralucier



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Complicated Breakup Sex, Emotional Constipation, Hungover Handjobs, M/M, unhealthy relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/pseuds/asuralucier
Summary: ”We broke your bed,” John said. “‘S why we’re on the floor.”Inspired by Shawn Mendes'sAftertaste.
Relationships: John Wick/Winston
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59
Collections: 300bpm Flash Exchange November 2019





	Object Permanence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [track_04](https://archiveofourown.org/users/track_04/gifts).



Winston’s head spun when he woke up. But the ceiling -- eggshell, unobtrusive -- most definitely part of his bedroom, put him at enough ease so that he could start to worry about other things that were off-kilter. 

And there were a lot of things. For one thing, Winston found that he wasn’t wearing anything but a bed sheet, dried stiff with sweat and come. Moreover -- 

“Morning,” said a voice, low and scratched with sleep, entirely too close to his person. Winston was dimly aware that he knew a version of that voice, a voice that bore an uncanny resemblance to John Wick. It took him a few seconds to register the fact that John was indeed next to him, also in a similar state of undress. 

“Morning,” Winston returned. “Are you all right?” As if he’d had any right to, as if he’d been doing it for years and not just torturing himself with the thought of it, he reached over and pulled John closer for a kiss. Some part of John seemed to want to protest, but he relaxed into it and made an amenable sound. There was the faint taste of blood and something else in his mouth. 

For a moment, Winston thought he’d imagined it, but then he knew he hadn’t, when John’s burgeoning erection twitched near his thigh. Well.

“I’m always all right,” John said. His gaze, like the taut coil of a ready trigger, searched Winston’s face. If Winston were any more sober or indeed, more awake, he might have started to feel self-conscious. He didn’t usually, but nothing about this situation was ordinary. “Are you?” 

Winston looked down at himself. “What do you mean?” 

“We broke your bed,” John said, waving towards the direction of Winston’s bed. The bed was indeed slanted to one side. “ ‘S why we’re on the floor.” 

Suddenly, Winston was wide awake. Suddenly, he was clear on things he’d rather not remember and couldn’t remember why he’d wanted to forget. Half of him hadn’t expected John to return from the Impossible Task, and yet the other part of Winston always knew he would; his answer to John's request would have been the same, no matter the outcome. And now here they were.

“I didn’t know I still had it in me.” 

“I keep telling you you’re not that old,” John said. He adjusted himself, kicking the sheet entangling around himself to free his limbs. Winston got an eyeful of John’s naked torso and was only a little distracted by the fresh marks that adorned his skin. Winston dragged his fingers over a jagged scar, and John held still. Like a statue. And then he leaned in to press his mouth against the wound and John hissed. 

“I guess I believe you.” 

John’s fingers curled in his hair. Winston made his way up, from the jagged scar to a dark bruise just under his nipple and when he licked the sensitive skin, John arched into his touch and made a small sound he tried to swallow.

“Or you know,” John said, with his eyes squeezed shut. “We could talk about it, Winston.” 

They could, Winston thought, but his mouth always moved faster than his head. “I’d rather not, Jonathan.” 

John stayed on the floor while Winston got up and dressed. Instead of their respective positions denoting Winston’s control and John’s subservience, it almost seemed the opposite. John looked spent and sated. Happy was a stretch. 

“You’re still hard.” 

Winston glanced down at himself. He was, there was no point in denying it. He returned his attention to adjusting the sleeve of his dressing gown. “I am. So?” 

John unfolded himself from the carpet and moved towards him with a predatory swiftness that inspired in Winston everything but fear. He found himself with his back against the wall, with little room to maneuver, and his legs parted slightly to allow for John to wrap long, no doubt practiced fingers around his cock. 

“So I’ll be gone in an hour, maybe two. You don’t have to be shy. I thought you just had everything you wanted. Every damn thing.” John mouthed hotly against his ear and Winston pushed against John’s rough palm. “And I know you want.” 

“It’s more complicated than you think,” Winston said. He gripped John by the back of his neck and the pain was enough for John to stop talking. At least for a little while.

Winston came with a loud groan muffled into John’s bare shoulder. He imagined his semen seeping into the many marks on John’s body and staying there like the man would stay in him. 

“It’s more complicated than I think, and you won’t talk about it,” John repeated. 

“Yes.” 

“Fine.” John stepped away from Winston and Winston regretted his answer at once, but not enough to change it. First, John went into the bathroom and washed his hands, and then he dressed and picked up the few things he’d brought with him to the penthouse. “I’m going now. I’m sorry about your bed.” 

“I’m not,” Winston said, and this caught John’s attention again. “Jonathan, you leave this world exactly once. Don’t fuck around. Don’t squander it.” 

John smiled thinly and stepped out into the corridor. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll figure out where I’m going. I always do.”


End file.
